


A Fine Line

by ItsYa1UPBoy



Series: The Crow Calls (Oneshots) [7]
Category: Etrian Odyssey IV: Legends of the Titan, Etrian Odyssey Series
Genre: Angst, M/M, You're Welcome, also in which marianne dies of shame, and also tasteless but it's himself he's being tasteless towards so it's ok, implied sex, in which havardr is revealed to have a pretty dark sense of humor, please enjoy your stay, sorta?, the ending is...very spicy~, then it turns into...uh...this, welcome to the sexy emotional baggage claim, いつかどこかであおうぜ〜〜
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsYa1UPBoy/pseuds/ItsYa1UPBoy
Summary: Sometimes, holding someone at arm’s length is all you can do to keep from being consumed by them.





	A Fine Line

**Author's Note:**

> GAY MEN WILL BE ANGSTING. THERE WILL BE SHIPPING. PREPARE YOURSELVES. (Place in the timeline of the guild: Late Hall of Darkness, maybe right before they battle the Warped Savior or something. Though that still leave a lot of time to have other stuff because that will take some preparation!)

Havardr glanced up from his book curiously. He could have sworn he heard the bed creaking in the next room over. He pushed his glasses up his nose and listened carefully.

Faintly, through the wall, there came a heavy sigh. The bed creaked some more, and a pair of feet hit the floor.

Havardr quietly closed his book and sat up in his bed, still staring at the wall. He picked the candle up off of the nightstand and sat the book in its place; the candle’s small flame flickered in his face, illuminating the dark circles under his eyes, and the rich smell of melted wax slowly broke his reverie.

Havardr barely heard the sound of running water in the next room; one thing he had to admit was that his military-trained senses had slowly started to return since he’d stopped drinking. He could see further away; he could hear fainter sounds. Miku had warned him that his senses might be dulled for a while after his withdrawals, but Havardr felt like the exact opposite had happened.

When he heard the neighboring bed creaking again, when he knew the occupant was settling back in for the night, the blond stood up slowly, carefully holding his candle out in front of him, and headed to the door. He sat his candle on the desk to open the door, and picked up the nightrobe that had been draped over the chair and put it on, though he didn’t tie it closed. Havardr grabbed the candle off of the desk again and slipped out of the door, closing it shut with his foot.

As he looked down the hallway cautiously, he instinctively pulled his robe closer. With his faintly glowing candle held close, and his wine red robe pulled around him, Havardr looked like an exhausted apparition, trying to find his way out of the hotel of the damned.

Nobody else was coming out into the hall, so Havardr tiptoed down to the room numbered 215. He stood in front of the door with his heart beating out of his chest. What if nothing was wrong? What if the person inside had just gone to the restroom?

But he couldn’t ignore that sigh. Familiar emotions hung around it.

Havardr raised his fist to the door, his robe falling open. He blushed as a cool breeze rippled through the cotton.

A light knock on the heavy wooden door.

_Knock._

A slight gasp.

Havardr blushed and pulled his robe tightly across him. The door rattled a bit before slowly cracking open. A pair of brown eyes peeked through tiredly.

“Can I come in for a moment?” Havardr whispered.

The door opened halfway, and Havardr slipped through effortlessly.

The room’s occupant closed the door behind him, and Havardr turned to him.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” Logre hissed. Havardr smiled weakly and looked down at the ground.

“I could ask you the same thing… But if you must know, it’s insomnia. Miku said it would torture me for months after withdrawals, maybe even a year… We...both agreed that I shouldn’t use sleeping pills.”

Havardr chuckled darkly, but Logre’s stern expression didn’t break.

“So I just...deal with it. I read, I stare at the wall, that sort of thing. I didn’t figure you needed to worry about me further… But I didn’t come in here to tell you about my problems. I came to check on you.”

“Well, that would certainly explain the dark circles under your eyes,” Logre mused quietly. “They’ve been there...since you got out of the hospital, really. I simply assumed it was to do with your withdrawals, and I suppose I was right, in a way. Same for your general exhaustion, though that could al---”

“Logre, don’t change the subject.”

Havardr glared at Logre, who blushed and broke out into his signature lazy grin.

“Honestly, I’m fine,” the gray-haired man said. “I just...had to go to the restroom. Nothing to worry yourself over.”

Logre ruffled Havardr’s hair, making the blond blush.

“Yes, of course, because taking a leak means your face and hair end up soaking wet,” Havardr grumbled. “Nothing to do with snapping yourself out of a haze.”

Logre’s hand fell to Havardr’s neck limply as he tried to find the words to say.

“You’re think you’re the only observant one?” Havardr hissed. “The only keen one? I’ve become a lot sharper since I sobered up, and one of the main things you taught us in the corps was how to read through the lies and deflections of others. It’s an art that you’ve mastered and that I’ve been honing for a long time.”

Logre glanced over at the wall, his face reddening.

“You shouldn’t hold us at arm’s length,” Havardr continued. “I know you’ve been doing it for a decade, and any decade-long habit is hard to switch off, but it’s like you guys are always telling me- a little bit at a time.”

Havardr walked over to Logre’s bed and stood in front of it with a calm smile, as though waiting patiently.

“C’mon, Logre,” he said calmly. “Please, let’s talk. You have things inside you that you need to say. I know that there must be things that bother you too.”

Havardr glanced over at the bed, the candlelight illuminating all of his features- his deep dark circles, his tall face, his pale skin, his ice-blue eyes.

Logre stared at him wearily and sighed. “I suppose I’m not getting out of this one…” he muttered as he approached him.

Havardr smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot to his left. Logre sat down beside him and sighed, staring down at his lap.

“Now then, what’s bothering you?”

“...”

Logre’s lips drew into a tight line.

“I… I saw...the Emperor.”

Havardr’s eyebrows raised.

“It was...when we were in the Golden Lair. Have I told you about that?”

“All you’ve told me is that that’s where Emperor Alfodr...breathed his last. In your arms.”

“I suppose I never told you any details because I don’t want you blaming yourself.”

Havardr leaned in closer out of sheer curiosity.

“Emperor Alfodr took a fatal wound while fighting off a horde of monsters. We weren’t yet used to handling our Drive Blades in such a cramped environment, between the numerous ponds and the lizard’s scales. And besides that, our cartridges were malfunctioning due to the extreme temperature changes.”

Logre glanced over at his companion, whose face had turned white as a sheet.

“Even if you had been with us, there would have been nothing that you could have done. You couldn’t have wielded your Drive Blade, either.”

Havardr nodded as he clenched his trembling hands into fists.

“I had tried to bandage the Emperor’s wounds as best as I could, but they were simply too deep. By the time I arrived at the Sentinels’ lair, he was barely alive… And although they tried to treat him with their own methods, Emperor Alfodr died in my arms.”

Logre gripped his knees tightly, his nails nearly drawing blood, and suppressed his tears with a low growl that even surprised Havardr. “I couldn’t protect him in his hour of need… What kind of vassal does that make me? _I_ should have died in _his_ arms!”

“Was the Emperor aware when he was dying? What was his reaction?”

“He was...surprisingly peaceful. He wasn’t screaming or crying; he was the perfect picture of a dignified ruler.”

Havardr put a rough hand on the Imperial’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“Don’t you see…?” he whispered with a bittersweet smile. “His Highness wasn’t angry with you… When he died, it was with you fighting for him despite the odds. You were standing over him; your support was the last thing that he experienced. He died with the most supportive of vassals at his side…”

Logre scoffed.

“Hardly so. He was probably thinking about what a disappointment I was, that I couldn’t fulfill my post. He would have wanted to die with his wife and his son at his side, not a mediocre guardsman like me.”

Havardr frowned. “Listen to you,” he chided. Logre glanced over with a mixture of shame and shock.

“Listen to you, going on about what a disappointment you are. Just because you aren’t perfect, just because things don’t go as planned, doesn’t mean you’re a disappointment. And it doesn’t make you irredeemable or burdensome or _worthless_!”

Marianne’s words from an eternity ago echoed in Logre’s ears.

“Have you really been suffering in silence all this time, Logre?” Havardr continued. “Think about how much you’ve done with this guild since you joined… We’ve fought together, risked our lives together. You don’t have to hold us at arm’s length anymore. Let us in, a bit at a time.”

“Somehow, I feel like if I let you in, I’ll fall in too deep,” Logre muttered. Havardr raised his eyebrows quizzically. Logre blushed and shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. There are emotions that I haven’t addressed yet, but I’ll come to them eventually.”

“A little bit at a time, Logre.”

Logre paused, contemplating his next words.

“The dream I had… You have the proper context now, so perhaps I can tell you.

“It was the same as always; I’m frantically racing through the Golden Lair with His Highness in my arms, but I’m lost. Hopelessly so. Any time I reach a dead end and turn around, the path never takes me back to where it started. I’m descending further and further into the bowels of the labyrinth.

“Except this time, something else happened. As I stumbled through the cave system, the smell of plants began to surround me. It crept up slowly, at first unnoticeable, until it was too late. As I searched for the source...I looked down…

“Starting from the fatal wound, the Titan’s Curse had begun to consume Emperor Alfodr.”

Havardr gasped and clasped his free hand over his mouth, his robe falling open.

“By the time I realized it...he was already more plant than human.”

Logre choked back a sob and looked away as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“In the dream, I gasped and nearly dropped him, but managed to keep a hold on him. Alfodr looked up at me, and his face was pained. He could barely breathe. With his vine-encrusted arm, he reached up and held my face...just as he did when he died. And he uttered his dying words in my arms, in the hopeless maze that we were trapped in.

“And as he breathed his last, the vines and leaves on his body crawled up my arms and consumed me. The Titan’s Curse consumed me.

“And then...I woke up.”

Logre sighed deeply and held his head in his hands, hunched over his knees. With a pained expression, Havardr wrapped his arm around Logre’s shoulders and slid next to him, their bare torsos touching, sharing heat that danced between them like the flames of a Runemaster.

“I know I won’t be getting any more sleep tonight. The image of Emperor Alfodr, bearing the same curse- the same _manifestations_ , even -as Prince Baldur haunts me every time I close my eyes.”

“And you think that that’s going to _dampen_ my concern for you?” Havardr asked with a sly smile. “I’ll just sit at your bedside and help you through the nightmares, for as long as you need me to. It’s not like _I’m_ going to be sleeping any time soon, after all.”

Logre’s face turned beet-red as he looked up in shock. “I-I don’t---”

Havardr stood up and stared at the older man expectantly. “I know I don’t have to tell you how to lie down in a bed.”

“B-but…”

“I’ll pull up a chair, or sit on the edge of the bed… I’ll even climb in there with you, if you want me to.”

Havardr grinned mischievously and winked. One wouldn’t think that Logre could turn any redder, but he was.

Logre swung his legs onto the bed and pulled his covers up while glancing up at Havardr strangely, his eyes darker than before. Was it because the candle was no longer illuminating his face?

“I can’t imagine I’ll be getting much sleep while you’re in here,” he said in a husky voice.

Now it was Havardr’s turn to blush. His hands were shaking so hard that he nearly dropped his candle.

“I struggle to bring the others closer in...” Logre continued in that same sensual tone. “But you… I struggle to hold you at arm’s length. With you, there’s a fine line between cordiality and unbridled passion.”

Logre pulled Havardr over him by his arm, their faces nearly touching, the Imperial’s eyes burning with desire.

“Is that a line that you’re willing to cross, Havardr?”

Havardr’s breath hitched in his throat. His entire body was on fire, and his loins in particular.

The blond smiled and sat the candle on the nightstand.

“But of course,” he whispered as he leaned in closer, crawling onto the bed and kneeling over Logre, straddling him with a lascivious grin. He put his hands on the headboard behind them and leaned in to kiss him.

Before Havardr knew it, the covers were on the floor and Logre had him pressed up against the headboard, his lips possessively smothering his, his hands, worn by years of carrying a Drive Blade, deftly removing his robe.

After that, it was a blur of passion and pleasure.

~~~~~

Marianne stood in front of Room 214 anxiously.

“ _I can’t believe that idiot isn’t up yet… Usually he’s up with me at the crack of dawn,_ ” she thought as she drew her lips into a tight line.

She knocked on the door.

“Hello? Havardr? Are you awake?”

No answer.

Marianne’s heart began pounding out of her chest.

“Havardr?” she called again, louder and more worriedly this time.

Still no answer.

Marianne threw the door open.

The bed inside was empty, but it had been slept in. A book was resting on the nightstand, but the candle that was usually there was gone.

Marianne turned to the desk. The nightrobe that Havardr usually had draped over his chair was gone as well.

“Could he have been sleepwalking…?” the blonde Fortress muttered. “If so, I can’t imagine where he would have gone…”

Her face lit up with realization.

“ _I’ll go ask Logre._ ”

With that thought in mind, she left Room 214 and walked over to Room 215, and knocked on the door.

“Logre? Have you seen Havardr?” she asked loudly.

As she stood in front of the door, though she looked calm and collected, her mind was racing with possibilities of what possibly could have happened. It was probably nothing, but she’d said that before and it had turned out to be _everything_ , so she wasn’t taking her chances this time.

No answer from Logre’s room either.

“...How odd.”

They were usually the first to rise after her- in fact, sometimes Logre was even awake before she was. With that in mind, Marianne opened the door to Logre’s room.

The covers were nowhere to be found. Rather, Havardr’s figure was the first thing she saw, curled up on _Logre’s_ bed. And his shoulders...and neck… Were those...bruises? And bite marks?

“By the fucking gods…”

Marianne rubbed her temples in exasperation.

Logre was on the other side of the bed, pressed up against Havardr tightly, his arms wrapped around the other man’s torso. His arms seemed to be littered with scratch marks.

As Marianne’s eyes travelled down the bed, she noticed…

Her face reddened considerably as she hurried to leave the room at once.

When the door slammed with a shudder, and Marianne was certain to be back in her room, Logre opened his eyes and grinned, nuzzling Havardr’s shoulder.

“When do you think we should say something?” he whispered.

Havardr smirked, but kept his eyes closed.

“Let’s leave her wondering for a while.”

“There’s nothing to wonder about.”

“No, I mean… Wondering how to broach the subject.”

“Ah… In that case… Sounds like fun.”

Logre chuckled. Havardr put his hands on Logre’s and pressed them closer to his stomach.

“I’m going to catch up on some _much_ needed sleep…” he yawned. “We might have to do this more, if it helps my insomnia.”

“As I said,” Logre whispered right into Havardr’s ear. “You’ve asked for unbridled passion, and you shall receive.”

Havardr shuddered at the wisp of breath that tickled his cheek.

"And I repay in kind.”


End file.
